


Dream Away the Cold

by shadowofrazia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowofrazia/pseuds/shadowofrazia
Summary: Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry is offered the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. With Draco, Harry must face bad memories and new experiences as he returns to his home after a decade away. Written for Slythindor100's 25 Days Challenge.





	1. Day One: Owls

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy! As usual, I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from posting this fic instead of doing my homework. Please enjoy!

  


When Harry thought about it, the letter was not a surprise. He tried to explain this to Draco, who had frowned as he broke the purple wax seal on the envelope. Harry’s hands had been shaking too much to do so on his own. 

Harry read the letter to himself in silence, well aware of the way Draco was watching him. No, he wasn’t surprised by the letter. He was surprised by his reaction to it. 

“McGonagall wants to meet in a week’s time to discuss the Defense position. I’ve been offered it. Their recent professor has decided to travel the world after their tenth year in the position.” 

“Wow, that must be some sort of record,” Draco said, taking the letter from Harry and reading over the letter for himself.

“People did say the job was jinxed,” Harry said. He sat on their sofa and pushed his glasses up onto the top of his head. 

“This is how you broke your last pair.” Draco plucked Harry’s glasses from the top of his head and set them on the end table. “Are you alright?” 

“Should we go back?” asked Harry quietly. “To the Wizarding World?”

Draco sighed and pushed his hair back from his face. 

“That’s not an easy question for either of us,” he said. “But I think the owl that brought it would prefer we make it sooner rather than later. It’s a long way back to England.”

Harry sighed. 

“I suppose we can’t hide forever,” he said. 

In the kitchen, an owl hooted, presumably in agreement. 


	2. Day Two: Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't very Christmassy yet, but there's a bit of set-up that needs to happen first! Thank you for the comments on the first part of this! I'm glad people are enjoying it! I'm trying something different since I've done 25 Days a few times!

 

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, brushing ash from his shoulders. It’d been ages since he’d travelled by Floo, and going from London to Hogwarts was always bound to be unpleasant. He was exhausted — he and Draco had only arrived in the country hours before. 

“Mr. Potter, I’m so pleased you could make it.” 

Harry smiled at Headmistress McGonagall as she crossed the room. She looked nearly the same as the last time he’d seen her. Her face was lined, but her eyes were as clear and sharp as ever.

“Thank you for your letter,” said Harry. He shook McGonagall’s hand and followed her over to her desk. 

Harry’s mind flashed back to years at this desk with Dumbledore. He looked over McGonagall’s shoulder at the portraits lining the walls. Dumbledore’s was empty. Harry wasn’t sure whether or not he was disappointed. 

“Would you like some tea, Mr. Potter?” 

Harry pulled his gaze away from the wall. 

“Please.” 

A tea tray appeared on the desk beside them. Harry prepared himself a cup as he made small-talk with his former professor. 

“It sounds like you’ve been doing well,” McGonagall said. “Many of us were worried when you left. The Weasleys assured us that you were safe.” 

“I just needed some time away,” Harry mumbled. “I needed to know that I could be something other than the Saviour of the Wizarding World, or the Boy Who Lived.”

Harry shook head. 

“That’s not important,” he said. “What important is that we--I’m here now.” 

McGonagall’s brow furrowed briefly, but she’d never been one to force conversation. 

“Let’s get to the important things, then,” she said, and pushed a stack of parchment across the desk. “You’ll need to read these carefully before you make any decisions. This job is a demanding one, but you’re the last person I’d worry about when it comes to handling demanding things.” 

“I’m not sure what you mean by demanding,” Harry said cautiously, looking away from the pages before him. 

“You’d be teaching all seven years of students, so roughly thirty hours of teaching per week, not to mention lesson planning, marking, meetings with students and other faculty, et. cetera,” McGonagall said. “You’d not be head of house, nor would you be required to live in the castle, but we do ask that you live nearby.”

“If I did this,” said Harry, “I’d need a lot of help. I’ve never taught before.” 

“I understand that, Mr. Potter. Professor Ross, the former Defense professor, says she’d be happy to meet with you, or simply to answer any questions you may have. The other professors and I would also be able to help any way we can.” 

“Am I even qualified?” Harry asked, gripping the cup tightly. “What parent would—” 

“Potter, you are possibly the most qualified person for the job,” McGonagall said. “You know all the theory and strategy that goes into Defense Against the Dark Arts, but you’ve also got real-world experience—”

“If that’s the only reason—” 

“That’s absolutely not the only reason I’ve offered you this position, Potter. You taught Longbottom more spells in a few months than we were able to teach him in years. You’re a good teacher. You understand what your students need, and you’re passionate. You understand why the material you teach is important. You’re what our students need.” 

Harry stared at McGonagall. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he said. 

She smiled.

“Read these papers. All I ask is that you keep an open mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you for the comments you left on yesterday's chapter!!! :D
> 
> (Also apologies for any typos. I might have realized mid sentence that it was 11:55 and I hadn't posted yet.)


	3. Day Three: London Sunset

“I’ve sent my response to McGonagall,” Harry said quietly, leaning against the railing of the bridge overlooking the water. It'd been two weeks since his meeting with McGonagall, and Harry figured the time to make his decision had come. Draco looked over at him. 

“Good,” he said. “I was tired of listening to you try to talk yourself out of it.” 

Harry snorted. 

“Please, tell me how you really feel,” Harry said drily, and bumped his shoulder against Draco’s. “You know we’ll have to move to Scotland. Well, I will anyway.” 

“There are worse things,” Draco said. “Besides, this will be good for both of us. Maybe I’ll finally start that Potions consulting I’ve been wanting to do.” 

“You won’t be able to keep yourself secret for long if you do that,” Harry pointed out. “Someone’s bound to find out.” 

Draco looked out over the water, the reflection of the setting sun blazing pink and orange in his eyes. 

“Yes, well, I’m tired of hiding. They’re going to hate me whether or not they know where I am. I spent all that time becoming a Potions master, I might as well do something useful with it.”

Together, they stood quietly, watching the sun slip beneath the horizon. Harry breathed in the cool evening air and held his hand out to Draco. 

“We should head back,” he said. “It’s late.”

They were nearly back to Grimmauld Place, when Harry said softly, “I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do this. Fighting Voldemort was straightforward, fight or die. This is so different.” 

“It’s completely different,” Draco said. “It makes sense that you’re scared. You’d be an idiot not to be. Though, I think you’re an idiot for thinking fighting the Dark Lord was anything but terrifying.” 

“I didn’t say it  _ wasn’t _ ,” said Harry. “It’s just that being bad at fighting Voldemort wasn’t really an option. I had to be better than him or I’d die. Teaching is...if I’m bad at it, no one dies, but they’ll know I’m a shit teacher.” 

“Then you’re a shit teacher.” Draco shrugged. “But you’ll become a better teacher with practice, as you learn what things to avoid. You’re going to have to learn and you’re going to have to ask for help.” 

“You know I hate asking for help,” Harry said. “And since when are you an expert on all of this?”

“It’s amazing how great of a teacher tragedy can be, Harry.” Draco climbed the steps of Grimmauld Place and held his hand out for the key. Harry handed it to him without another word. 


	4. Day Four: Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for your comments on the previous chapters! This is a short one today because I, as usual, have homework!

“I think we could make this your office,” Draco said, looking up at the high ceilings. “There’s a fireplace in the sitting room that we could connect to the Floo.” 

Harry glanced into the other room, where the Muggle realtor was readjusting something on the mantle. It didn’t seem like she’d heard anything. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind living this close to Hogsmeade?” Harry asked quietly. “It’s a Muggle neighborhood, but we’ll be close enough to...everything that—” 

“You’ve already asked me this,” Draco said sharply. “I’m fine living near Hogsmeade, I know what’s at stake. You’d know if I didn’t want to do this.” 

“That’s very true,” said Harry. “There’s a lot of wood in here, don’t you think?” 

“This doesn’t have to be your office,” Draco said. “I’ll need one, too.”

“I’ll have an office at school,” Harry reminded him. “You can have this one.” 

“If you don’t have a place to work here, you’ll be holed up in that castle forever. It’s unhealthy.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and followed the realtor into the kitchen. 


	5. Day Five: Griffin Tattoo

It’d been ages since Harry had felt so nervous. 

He paced the office adjacent to his classroom, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

He could do this. He just needed to calm down.

Harry heard the sound of the students shuffling into the classroom, and something akin to terror shot through him so suddenly that he felt slightly light-headed. 

The night before, the Great Hall had gone silent when McGonagall had introduced Harry to the school. The silence was followed by the usual whispers and head craning that Harry would never get used to. It didn’t help that he’d been able to live as a normal person for a decade. 

Harry remembered the way he’d felt on his first day at Hogwarts. He remembered the awe inspiring  _ magic  _ of the castle, the fear that there’d been some mistake, the confusion about his past, but most of all he remembered the exhilarating realisation that he finally  _ belonged  _ somewhere.

Well, as much as he could belong somewhere. 

“Good morning, everyone,” Harry said, turning to face his class. 

A room of stoic first years stared back at him. 

“Uh, welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m Professor Potter.” 

Harry struggled not to make a face at that last part. More than one person had made it clear that using his surname with his students would make his life infinitely less difficult. That didn’t make it any less strange to say. 

“Um, okay, I’m gonna-- _ going to  _ take attendance, and then we’ll get started.” 

Harry made his way down the list, and only stumbled over a couple names, which he counted as a victory. He set the parchment down and leaned against the desk. 

“I have a plan for this class, of course, but I have a feeling you all have some questions. For the first few minutes, I’ll let you ask me whatever questions you have about me. We’ll, um, be talking about the Wizarding Wars later in the year, so those questions will have to wait until then. For now, you can ask about me, this class, Hogwarts in general. I know the first few days are very overwhelming.”

There was a beat of silence before one girl hesitantly raised her hand. 

“Do you really have the scar?” 

Harry forced himself not to flatten his fringe over his forehead. It was a habit he’d never really been able to break over the years. 

“Yes, I have the scar. There’s no point trying to show you, though. It’s very faint now,” Harry said. “You in the back?”

“Why aren’t you wearing robes like the other professors?” 

“I’ve been, uh, out of the Wizarding World for a while. I’ve got a few sets of robes, but I really prefer Muggle clothing more than anything else these days,” Harry said. 

“Is that why you have a Muggle tattoo, sir? Isn’t it boring, having a tattoo that doesn’t move?” 

“Oh, sh— heck,” Harry said, pulling his sleeves down. “I promised the headmistress I’d keep this covered.”

“What’s it of? My brother’s got a lot of tattoos, but all his move—” 

Harry was sure his face was red. He pushed his glasses up and did his best to look relaxed as he rebuttoned his cuffs. 

“That tattoo’s a griffin. My...spouse has got one in the same place. I forget it’s there sometimes, I’ve had it so long.” 

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He could see the eyes focusing on his forehead as he did so. He knew from experience that people would treat him normally once they realised that The Boy Who Lived, or whatever they called him these days, was only a fraction of who Harry was. Sometimes, Harry’s memories of Voldemort and the War felt like he was peering through a window into someone else’s life. 

Other times, all Harry could do was remember what his life had been.

For now, a small red-haired boy raised his hand and spoke mostly to his desk as he asked, “Is it true you know Ginny Weasley? She’s my favorite Quidditch player.” 

Harry grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's finally at Hogwarts! It occurred to me after writing this that the tattoo is on someone's leg, not their forearm. Oh well, artistic license. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! I'll try to answer comments this weekend! <3


	6. Day Six: Cozy Fire

 

Harry dropped onto the couch beside Draco, who scowled as his notebook was jostled.

“You’ve been working so hard all day,” Harry said, leaning his head on Draco’s shoulder. “Take a break.”

“You’re whining,” Draco said. “I’m nearly finished.”

“I’m not whining,” Harry said. “It’s a Saturday, and we both agreed Saturday was our day off.”

Draco sighed and kissed Harry.

“If you make us cocoa, I’ll be finished by the time you get back,” he said. “Without magic.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“I know, I know," he said. "It tastes weird when we make it with magic.”

True to his word, Draco had put away his potions work by the time Harry returned to the room. There was a fire in the fireplace— it was early November, and Harry knew he wasn’t the only one who could feel the draft in the house.

Harry handed Draco one of the mugs and sat on the couch beside him, letting the warmth of the fire fight the chill away.


	7. Day Seven: Narcissa Malfoy

“We got a letter from your mum.” 

Draco looked over at Harry and frowned. 

“Read it to me,” he said. “I have to stir this for another minute and a half.” 

Harry opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. 

“Dearest Draco, I’m delighted that you and Mr. Potter have decided to return at last. While I know things have been difficult between us, it would be remiss of me not to invite you to visit during the holidays. If you are unable to visit during the holidays, please visit as soon as is convenient. All my love, Mother.” 

“We should visit her for Christmas,” Harry said. “I don’t know if I’ll have time before then. We also have to meet with Ron and Hermione, of course.” 

“I’ll think about it,” Draco said after a long moment. “Just leave the letter on the table there.” 

Harry did as he was asked. 

“I’ll be marking essays if you need me,” he said, and left Draco to his stirring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love Narcissa. I wanted to use this pic for a part she was actually in, but these kids do what they want. I have stats homework that's due Tuesday, so these next few parts are either gonna be really short or really long. (It depends on how much I want to procrastinate.) Thank you for reading!!!


	8. Day Eight: Black Dog

Friday afternoons were Harry’s to do with as he pleased. He made a point to eat at the castle at least three days a week, and increasingly, one of those days was Friday. Sometimes, he’d go to visit Hagrid, who still lived in the hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. 

Harry made his way through the snow, careful not to slip on the icy stone steps that led from the castle to Hagrid’s. He’d made this walk frequently as a student, but it’d never felt difficult. Now, Harry’s knees ached by the time he made it back up to the castle, a reminder of the strain he’d put his body through during the war. 

Visiting Hagrid was worth it. 

Hagrid’s shaggy hair and beard were streaked with grey, and the lines on his face had deepened, but his eyes were warm with kindness, and Harry knew Hagrid was part of what made Hogwarts home. 

Fang was gone, and Hagrid had said it’d taken him a few years to even consider a new dog. This dog’s name was Pepper, on account of the white fur that flecked her black snout. Hagrid had found her as a puppy, he said, hiding in the grass on his way back from Hogsmeade. 

The first time he saw her, Harry’s heart had ached with memories of Sirius, and maybe Pepper had known that, because she’d rested her head on Harry’s knee and hadn’t moved until he’d stood to make his goodbyes. 

In return, Harry brought Pepper treats from the castle. If Hagrid noticed, well, he was kind enough not to say anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this picture is technically a fox? I don't know, artistic license. Thank you for reading!


	9. Day Nine: Inside the Knight Bus

Harry found out what happened because he heard his students murmuring to each other as they wandered into the room. A few of them were holding copies of the Daily Prophet, and Harry’s heart sank. Nothing good ever came from the Daily Prophet. There was a reason he and Draco never read it. 

“Anything interesting?” he asked when it was clear his class wasn’t prepared to settle down just yet. 

The students glanced at each other, then one girl held her copy of the Prophet out to him. Harry’s heart sank. 

**FORMER DEATH EATER SPOTTED ON KNIGHT BUS**

It was accompanied by a photo of Draco, who was sitting at a table beside the window and reading. His shoulders were tense, and Harry could tell he knew he was being photographed. 

It was, objectively, a very nice picture of Draco. The Daily Prophet had switched to colour photographs while Harry was away, and Draco’s light colouring was complimented by the purple hangings of the Knight Bus. The tattoo on his forearm was visible, as if Draco had angled his arm  _ just so,  _ to show that the Dark Mark was gone.

“Professor, are you alright?” 

“I’m...I’m fine,” Harry said. “I just wasn’t expecting to see him in the paper today. They should let him live his life. It’s been ten years. He’s not a Death Eater anymore.”

He handed the paper back to the girl. 

“Be careful with them,” he said. “They’re generally more concerned with selling papers than the truth.”


	10. Day Ten: Romantic Bath

The first thing Harry smelled when he got home was lavender and sandalwood, a telltale sign that Draco had returned from his trip and was in the bath. Harry took off his shoes, set his bag beside his desk, and made his way upstairs.

Draco was submerged in water up to his chest, his eyes closed. 

“Close the door,” he said without opening his eyes. “You're going to let the warm air out.”

“As if you haven't spelled the whole room warm anyway,” Harry said, but did as Draco asked. “How are you doing?”

I shouldn't have taken the bloody bus.”

Harry sat on the rug beside the bath and leaned his head against the wall.

“Apparating to Wiltshire would have been exhausting, and your mum's not connected to the Floo Network.”

“I could've taken a train. I just—”

“We both knew this was likely to happen regardless of what you did.”

“They called me a Death Eater. Part of me had hoped...it doesn't matter.”

Harry pushed a hand through his hair.

“Are you sure you don't want me to speak with someone at the Prophet?” he asked.

“ The fact you're even offering tells me how much you love me,” Draco said dryly. “But we both know it wouldn't help.”

Draco rested his arm on the edge of the bath and looked down at the tattoo on his arm where the Dark Mark used to be. 

“I wonder sometimes,” he said quietly. “I wonder what my life would be like if you'd given up on me.”

“And?”

“This is definitely the better option.”

Harry looked over at Draco, whose hair was damp and mussed, his skin flushed red with the heat of the bath. Giving up on Draco had never even crossed Harry's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe less romantic than relaxing and slightly angsty? I dunno. I'm finished with classes on Thursday, so hopefully I'll have a minute to respond to some comments then! Until then, thank you for reading!


	11. Day Eleven: Dobby

Harry had a penchant for mismatched socks. It wasn't that he'd been particularly committed to matching his socks to begin with, but once Dobby had started giving him mismatched socks as gifts, Harry was kind of stuck. 

It didn’t hurt that Harry was usually in far too much of a hurry in the mornings to worry about whether or not the socks he grabbed were a pair. 

“There’s a spell, you know,” said Draco one morning as he watch Harry tear through his sock drawer. “It sorts your socks for you, and that way you wouldn’t have to destroy our bedroom every time you needed a sock.”

“You’ll have to teach it to me sometime,” Harry said. He dropped a kiss to Draco’s cheek, pulled his socks on, and hurried downstairs to the fireplace. 


	12. Day Twelve: Fairy Lights

Draco sat cross-legged on the floor, a string of fairy lights in front of him. He and Harry had gone to get a tree the weekend before, but hadn’t got around to decorating it. 

“Is there a reason you’re not just using magic to untangle those?” Harry asked, carefully setting two cups of tea on the nearby coffee table. 

“It builds character.” 

“Uh-huh,” said Harry. He took his wand out of his pocket and handed it to Draco. “Could’ve just asked.” 

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry and took the wand. 

“I would’ve been able to do it without magic,” he said, and prodded the strand of lights. 

Harry watched the lights untangle and wind their way around the tree. Draco smiled smugly and reached over for the tea on the table. 

“You’ve saved me hours of work.” 

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration,” Harry said and pulled the box of ornaments closer to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one! This week's updates are going to be rather short, as I have a stats final exam due on Thursday. (RIP @ me) Our boys are finally in a Christmas story! It just took 12 chapters.


	13. Day Thirteen: Mince Pies

Baking was something Draco did when he was stressed out. There’d been very little in the news about him being back in the UK, and Harry hoped that was a sign that people had stopped caring so much about the Malfoys. 

That being said, Harry was unsurprised to awake to the smell of pies baking one morning. Draco’s potions consulting had really kicked off, and their mailbox was stuffed full of people asking for advice on potions to get their loved ones. He’d spend a lot of time in his lab recently, brewing and taking notes and swearing at his cauldron. 

Harry made his way down to the kitchen, where Draco was neatly weighing flour at the kitchen table. 

“There are a lot of things people could call you, but messy baker is not one of them.” Harry grabbed a spoon and took a bite of the pie filling. 

“Just because you’re determined to leave every room looking like a bomb went off—” 

“It’s a gift,” Harry said cheerfully, leaning over to kiss Draco’s cheek. “I’m just going to make a coffee, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

“What are your plans for today?” Draco asked.

“I’ve got essays to grade, so I’ll be in my office for most of the day.” 

Harry poured his coffee and grabbed an apple from their bowl of fruit. Before he left the kitchen, he looked at Draco, who was carefully sifting flour. 

“How many of these are you planning to make?” Harry asked. 

A timer went off behind Harry, and without responding, Draco waved his wand in the general direction of the oven. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep me in your thoughts. My stats final is due tomorrow. Also, I am frequently confused by mince pies. I looked up a recipe and it called for mincemeat, but then I looked up mincemeat and it said that there’s only sometimes meat in it???


	14. Day Fourteen: Nutcracker

“We’re not putting it on the mantle, Draco.” 

“It doesn’t have to be on the mantle. It could be in the kitchen, or the dining room.” 

“I’d rather it wasn’t in any room, let alone one I’m ever in.” 

“Harry, you live in this house. You’re in every room. It’s not my fault you have some weird thing against nutcrackers.” 

“They’re  _ creepy _ . I’m not the only one who doesn’t like them!” 

“You’re being ridiculous.” 

“I’m very good at that. We’re not putting up a nutcracker. I refuse to look at it. Why don’t you just put it in your lab? You're always telling me to stay out of there, anyway." 

"That's...not a bad idea, actually." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my stats exam! It's 11pm! I'm still on campus! Here's 100 words of bickering about creepy decorations! <3


	15. Day Fifteen: Chestnuts

“We need something for Molly and for my mother,” Draco said, looking down at his neatly written list. Harry had learned very early on to leave Draco and his lists alone. They were useful, at any rate — Harry was always forgetting things. 

“I think I saw something Molly would like a few stalls over,” Harry said. “There’s also a stall that sells lovely pens and handmade journals. Your mum does a lot of writing, so I thought she’d like that.” 

“Yeah,” Draco said. He added those two gifts to the list and put it back into his pocket. “Let’s go finish up, then.” 

They went to the remaining stalls, and Draco surreptitiously shrunk their packages. Harry linked their arms and steered them towards the various food stalls.

“Alright,” he said. “We’re going to get mulled wine and chestnuts, and we’re going to have fun for the rest of the night.” 

“I hate chestnuts,” Draco said. “You know that.” 

“We’ll get you something else.” Harry grinned. “I’ll try to catch the chestnuts in my mouth, and you’ll roll your eyes when they end up on the ground.” 

“Why do I put up with you?” Draco asked with a long-suffering sigh. Harry laughed and gave Draco a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like chestnuts, but I do really like Christmas markets! Thank you for reading. <3


	16. Day Sixteen: Naughty or Nice

An owl flew through the window and landed on the table before Harry even had the chance to finish his breakfast. It was the same owl that delivered his job offer, but this time, it simply had a letter tied to its leg. Harry took the letter and stroked the owl’s chest as he unrolled it. 

“Anything important?” Draco asked, doing up the buttons on his shirt. His hair was damp and brushed back away from his face, as if it wouldn’t fall back into his face the moment it dried. 

“McGonagall wants to meet before classes this morning. Where are you off to?” 

“I’ve got a new potential client. We’re meeting in Edinburgh for lunch, so I’m leaving a bit early to pick up some potions supplies I’m running low on.” Draco took a few sips of Harry’s coffee and a piece of toast from his plate. 

“Please, help yourself,” Harry said. Draco took another piece of toast. 

“You’d better get to McGonagall. It must be something important if she’s owling you this early.” 

“You’re right.” Harry took his plate to the sink. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

“You’re staying at the castle for dinner?” 

“I’ve got meetings with stressed out Seventh Years who think their lives are going to end if they get anything less than an O on their NEWTS. I’ll be home late.” 

Harry kissed Draco’s cheek. 

“I left you coffee in the press, if you wanted your own cup.” 

McGonagall was waiting for Harry when he stumbled into her office. Harry brushed ash from his clothes and greeted her. 

“Is everything okay?” Harry asked, settling into the chair at her desk. 

“You tell me, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, pushing a newspaper across the desk. Harry’s eyes go ride as he reads it. 

**NAUGHTY OR NICE? HARRY POTTER CAUGHT CANOODLING WITH FORMER DEATH EATER DRACO MALFOY**

“I’m beginning to wonder if the Prophet realizes Draco’s full name isn’t  _ Former Death Eater Draco Malfoy _ ,” Harry said drily, skimming through the article. “It’s a nice photo. Who even says _canoodling_ these days?” 

McGonagall’s eyebrows were nearly in her hairline. 

“So it’s true,” she asked. “You and Mr. Malfoy—” 

“We’ve been together for ten years,” Harry said. “Longer, actually.” He met McGonagall’s gaze. “Is that a problem?” 

If she was surprised by his bluntness, she didn’t show it. 

“Are you happy, Mr. Potter?” she asked. 

“Probably the happiest I’ve been,” Harry responded. He smiled down at the photo, where he was laughing as he kissed Draco’s cheek. “Being with Draco’s the best decision I’ve ever made, and I’ve not been able to make many decisions for myself.”

“The students are going to talk,” McGonagall said. “They’re going to be unkind. They’ve been raised by people who knew Mr. Malfoy at school or during the war, or who knew his father. It’s a national sport to hate the Malfoys.” 

“We both know that.” Harry stood. “Do you mind if I go? I need to give Draco a warning. He’s going out to Edinburgh today.” 

“You may go, Mr. Potter.” 

Harry nodded, wished McGonagall a good day, and hurried down the spiral staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure this is what people were hoping for with the naughty or nice prompt, but oh well. Also, Harry's dry humor is my favorite part of the series.


	17. Day Seventeen: Arctic Fox

Harry had nearly forgotten what it was like being scorned  by the entire population of Hogwarts. His students stared back at him as he taught, some of them with open hostility. Harry had become pretty good at pretending nothing was wrong during school, so he did just that. 

It was near the end of his lesson with the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins that he finally got a response from Draco. A small, glowing arctic fox landed on Harry’s desk, much to the thrill of his students. Harry counted himself lucky that Draco’s Patronus was so patient compared to his own. It curled up on Harry’s cardigan and waited. 

“Alright, everyone,” he said. “We’re going to ignore the Patronus on my desk and finish the lesson.”

It quickly became clear that his students were uninterested in anything other than the fox on the desk. 

Harry sighed. 

“Alright, then,” he said quietly, mostly to himself. “Draco wouldn’t send anything too scandalous during my lesson. Go on, tell me what you’ve got to say.”

The fox tilted its head, and Draco’s voice came from its mouth. 

“Knowing you, you’re using this as some sort of demonstration for your sixth years, so I’ll keep it brief. Everything is okay. Lunch went well. I’ve checked the wards on the house to keep any unwanted visitors out. I believe you’ve got Slytherins and Gryffindors right now, which feels strangely appropriate. I’ll see you tonight.” 

The fox faded and disappeared, leaving a strained silence behind. 

“Was that Malfoy?” a Gryffindor girl asked. “He doesn’t sound evil.” 

The Slytherins in the room scoffed in near unison. Harry stifled a laugh. 

“He’s right about one thing,” Harry said, drawing his wand. “I am going to use this as a demonstration.” 


	18. Day Eighteen: Mistletoe

There were few things Harry really disliked about Christmas, but mistletoe was definitely one of them. He didn’t really understand the point of it, a plant that forced people to kiss. It made him uncomfortable as a teen, and it made him uncomfortable now. 

It helped that Draco was also fairly unimpressed with mistletoe as well. 

“I’ll just kiss you when I want to kiss you, if that’s alright,” Draco said when Harry brought up the decorations in the castle. 

“That’s fine with me,” Harry said, shrugging. 

“I did always find it strange that we had mistletoe in a castle full of teens.”

Harry laughed.

“Yea, I’m not sure whose idea that was. Knowing the secret passages really helped around Christmastime.”

“I just hexed anyone who got too close to me walking through the halls. Worked out pretty well for me, I think.”

“The hex didn’t work on me,” Harry said smugly. 

Draco stood and took Harry’s empty tea mug.

“It worked on you. You’re just stubborn as hell.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not unbiased about mistletoe. I don't like it. Also, I'm probably allergic to it, let's be real. Thank you, everyone, for your comments, and for your well-wishes regarding my exam!


	19. Day Nineteen: A Sprig of Holly

“We got a really ugly card in the mail today.” 

Harry snorted.

“Did this really ugly card say anything?” 

“Of course it did, but look at this.” Draco handed the card over. Harry wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s, uh, it’s not the worst card I’ve ever seen. My Aunt Petunia had some terrible ones when I was growing up,” he said carefully. “It’s...eccentric.” 

He poked the large sprig of frosted holly stuck to the centre of the card. “I wouldn’t have sent it.” 

“God, you’re such a bloody Gryffindor sometimes.” Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s who it’s from that’s more offensive, really.” 

Harry read the card, careful not to disturb the holly too much. 

“The Ministry of Magic has invited us to the 500th Annual Christmas Ball,” he said. “Hang on, they’ve invited  _ me  _ to the 500th Annual Christmas Ball. That doesn’t make much sense, as ballroom dance is usually a pair sport.” 

“Is ballroom dance a sport?” Draco asked. 

“I think so, yeah,” Harry said. “My point is that they’ve intentionally left you off the invitation.”

He turned the card over, just in case there was something written on the back. There was nothing there except the Ministry’s seal.

“Both of us have good reason to refuse this invitation. Why would we go to this?” 

Draco chewed his lip and looked away. 

“What?” Harry asked. “Am I about to learn about some weird Pureblood thing?” 

“It’s...kind of,” Draco said. “The Ministry knows we’re together. Most of the UK know we’re together. It’s a challenge.”

“You’re saying that we have to go to this Christmas party to defend our honour.”

“Essentially, yes.” 

Harry thought about the stacks of insulting letters that had arrived to his office at Hogwarts in the days since the Prophet had published the photograph of him and Draco. There was a ward over the house that kept any unsafe mail out, but they’d still had a few unsavoury messages slip through. 

“Would I have to wear a dress robe?” 

“Harry, if it wouldn’t get you arrested, I’d say you wouldn’t have to wear anything.” 

Harry laughed and handed the card back to Draco. 


	20. Day Twenty: Candy Canes

Lazy days were Harry’s favourite thing about holidays. He loved lazing around in his pyjamas, loved resting his head in Draco’s lap, letting his eyes drift closed as Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. 

“You need a haircut,” Draco said. “I could braid this if I wanted to.” 

“I’d look good in a braid.” 

“I love you far too much to lie to you, Harry. You’d look bloody awful in a braid.” 

“What about a ponytail—”

“No, absolutely not. Stop talking before you ruin the mood,” Draco said, and tugged on a lock of Harry’s hair.

Harry slapped at Draco’s hand. 

“Who’s ruining the mood now?” he asked. 

“Still you,” Draco said, but passed Harry a candy cane in apology. 

“Truce?” Harry broke off a piece of the candy cane and offered it to Draco, who sighed and took the candy. 

“Maybe a bun would look alright,” he said. “But I reserve the right to tease you when your hair gets to really awkward stages.” 

“Deal, I guess,” said Harry. “You’ll tease me whether or not I give you permission.” 

“You’ll get it cut before the Christmas Ball?” Draco asked. 

“I was planning to,” Harry said. “It’s been getting on my nerves. You’re also incredibly predictable when it comes to my hair.” 

He broke off another piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this made me realize that I haven't had ANY candy canes yet this December. I love candy canes. I need to get on that. Thank you for reading! Also, to those of you wondering, I didn't do great on my final exam for stats, BUT I passed the class with a grade I'm happy with!


	21. Day Twenty-One: Hilariously Bad Suits

“And there we go.” Draco finished tying Harry’s bowtie with a flourish. He straightened it and then rested his hands on Harry’s chest. “It’s not too tight? I don’t want you undoing my hard work ten minutes into this thing.” 

“It’s fine, Draco. Thank you,” Harry said. He smiled at Draco and leaned forward to kiss him. Draco leaned back. 

“We’re already running late,” he said, but he gave Harry a quick kiss anyway. 

Draco apparated them to the Minister’s home, where the Ball was to be held. He whistled, impressed, but Harry was too busy trying not to be sick to look up. Side-Along Apparition was still something he despised. 

“You can apparate us home,” Draco said, rubbing soothing circles on Harry’s back. 

“Thank fuck for that.” Harry straightened and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“ _ Wow _ ,” he said. “That is a big house.”

“The Minister’s house is larger than Malfoy Manor ever was, though my father must be rolling in his grave to hear someone admit it out loud,” Draco said, taking Harry’s hand and leading the way to the door. “It’s not devoid of the unsettling portraits, though. There are portraits of every Minister of Magic, even the ones who likely shouldn’t be up there.” 

“Just like the Headmasters.”

“Yes,” said Draco. “Just like them.” 

He fell silent after that. Harry could tell how anxious Draco was, even without the stranglehold the other man had on his hand. Harry was always moving when he was anxious— pacing, tapping his pen, jiggling his leg so much that Draco would often reach out and rest his hand on Harry’s knee to get him to stop. Draco, on the other hand…

Draco always went still and cold. He would seize up, face carefully arranged into an expression of arrogant apathy. If he spoke, Draco’s voice was lower, and his speech carefully articulated as if daring the other person to challenge him.

Harry didn’t know if it was Draco’s upbringing, some sort of Pureblood Aristocracy thing, but he’d noticed that Narcissa did it too, so had Sirius, when he was alive. 

“Look alive Harry,” Draco said. “They’re already scowling.” 

Harry pasted on his most polite smile. 

“Ah, Mr. Potter, what an honour it is to see you. May I take your coat?”

The man’s voice was simpering as he spoke to Harry, and neither Harry nor Draco missed the fact the man hadn’t even looked at Draco once. 

Harry helped Draco out of his coat, and handed it to the man before removing his own. 

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said, tucking the coat check ticket into his pocket. “I know you’ll take good care of our things.” 

Harry grit his teeth as the security guards spent five minutes checking over Draco, reassuring the pair that it was  _ just protocol _ , when they’d barely glanced Harry’s way. 

“I thought they were going to make you undress,” Harry muttered angrily as he and Draco walked towards the ballroom. “Meanwhile, I’m twiddling my thumbs like a child in the corner—” 

“Harry,” Draco said. “It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen. We’ll drink a lot of free champagne and then head home.” 

They’d decided a few days earlier that they’d have Harry’s name announced first. It wasn’t that they hoped people wouldn’t notice Draco’s name — even if they missed his name, no one could miss Draco Malfoy walking into a room — but they didn’t want to give people the opportunity to accuse Draco of manipulating Harry. 

“You know they usually announce the husband of a married pair first, yeah?” Harry had said as they looked through suits to wear. “People are going to … make assumptions about our relationship.” 

“I don’t care,” Draco had replied. “Do you?” 

Harry’s hand felt a bit like it would fall off if Draco wouldn’t stop squeezing the life out of it. 

“Mr. Harry Potter,” called out the footman. “Accompanied by Mr. Draco Malfoy.” 

A hundred or so pairs of eyes turned to look at them as they entered. 

“Keep walking, Harry,” Draco murmured. “We’ll get some champagne in us and try not to laugh too hard at the Weasley twins’ suits.”

“I think I’ve already cracked a rib trying not to laugh,” Harry said. “Trust the Weasleys to show up to a black-tie event dressed in what looks like wrapping paper.” 

Draco steered them towards a pyramid of champagne glasses that would have given Harry mild anxiety had they not been at a wizarding event. 

“It’d be more alarming if they hadn’t dressed as wrapping paper,” Draco said. He handed Harry a flute of champagne, and then downed his own with little preamble. 


	22. Day Twenty-Two: Phoenix Tattoo

The night at the Ministry hadn’t gone badly, necessarily, but Harry could tell it’d worn Draco down. He’d kissed Harry hard the moment they'd apparated home, a touch of anger in his eyes when he pulled back.

“I hate that they keep doing this to us,” he'd said, and rested his forehead against Harry's. “I hate that they make me feel so weak.”

“You're not weak,” Harry murmured.

“I know I'm not,” Draco snapped. “I just worry that I'm not strong enough for all this nonsense. And I want to get out of this  _ fucking suit _ !”

Draco pushed past Harry and went upstairs. Harry counted to ten before he followed.

“I just don't know why they don't understand how out of control everything was then!” Draco said, hands shaking as he tried to undo the buttons of his shirt. “I made the choices I thought were good choices, but—”

“Let me,” Harry said. “You're going to rip the buttons off this shirt.” 

“Thank you,” Draco mumbled. “Why don't they understand? They were in that war, too. They should know what was at stake. They should know I'm not my father's son.”

“They need someone to blame,” Harry said. “And we were right at the centre of it all.”

He pushed the shirt from Draco's shoulders and threw it over the back of a chair. 

“But I made the right choices. And Dumbledore went and fucked it right up.”

“He was rather good at that.” Harry smiled ruefully.

“Yet you got that stupid bird of his tattooed onto your ribcage.”

Harry glanced down at his side and the blend of reds, oranges, and yellows that shifted around a soaring phoenix. It was his only magical tattoo, and Harry was still startled sometimes when he looked in the mirror and saw the movement in the corner of his eye.

“Fawkes saved my life more than once,” Harry said.

“You'd better tattoo me on your other side,” Draco responded. He ran his fingers over the colours on Harry's side, grinning mischievously when Harry huffed out a laugh and pushed his hand away.

“That tickles. You  _ know  _ that tickles,” Harry said. He caught Draco's hands in his own and kissed them.

“We'll be okay,” he said quietly. “Even if they never realise how wonderful you are and how much you sacrificed for them.”

“I get tired of waiting,” Draco said. “I’m so tired.”

He pulled away. 

“I'm going to take a shower. I did enjoy myself tonight.” He smiled a bit sadly. “We should've got a photo of you in that tux.”

The door clicked shut and Harry sat on the bed, exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I tried to write something fluffy, but these heckers are so stubborn! I tried and they wouldn't cooperate!! Hopefully tomorrow's will be a little bit less...angsty.


	23. Day Twenty-Three: Jingle Bells

“Are you happy here?” 

Draco inhaled slowly, breath hanging in the cold air around them.

“I’m not going to lie,” he said, watching the falling snow. “I was happier where people didn’t know who my father was, and didn’t blame me for things well outside of my control. I loved being unknown. Being back, it makes me realise how wrong I was to think you liked the fame.”

“We don’t have to stay,” Harry said. “I could finish the year at Hogwarts and then we could leave. We—” 

“We’re going to stay,” Draco said firmly, turning to Harry. “I’m tired of running. You’re tired of running.” 

“Draco, this isn’t something you need to prove. We can leave if you want to.” 

Draco placed his hands on Harry’s cheeks. 

“Believe me when I say that I do not want to leave,” he said. “I would be lying if I said I was completely happy here. It’s been difficult being back, but this is where we’re staying.” 

Harry covered Draco’s hands with his own.

“You’re kinda hot when you’re all serious,” he said. 

“Oh, leave it to you to ruin a serious moment with an incredibly stupid comment.”

Harry laughed and tilted his head to the side, the bells of the antlers on his head jingling. 

“It took a stupid comment to ruin the moment?” Harry asked.

Draco laughed. 

“You look ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” 

Draco flicked one of the bells with his finger. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Two more days!!! Thank you, as always, for reading and for leaving comments! I read all of them! <3 <3


	24. Day Twenty-Four: Christmas Crackers

“And remember, don’t eat anything offered to you by Fred or George, or both of them at once, now I think about it.” 

The path to the Burrow was lined by multicoloured lanterns that, upon closer look, seemed to be housing little fairies. Harry grimaced, privately hoping Molly would release them at the end of the night. 

“Please,” said Draco. “I know the day I accept anything from those two is the day I start my life as a canary.” 

“Or—” 

“I will end our relationship right here if you say anything about ferrets.”

Harry bit his lip, grinning. He didn’t  _ think  _ Draco would leave him alone on the doorstep of the Burrow on Christmas Eve, but it was probably best not to test that. 

“Aw, but you made such a good ferret.” 

“I’m going to kill him,” Draco muttered, glowering over Harry’s shoulder at Ron, who was stood in the doorway. He looked very proud of himself. 

“Please, Draco, we’ve had such a good, murder-free year.” 

“I’m making no promises,” Draco said, and pasted on a smile. “Merry Christmas, Ron.” 

As Draco walked into the house, Ron leaned towards Harry. 

“He’s a lot scarier when he smiles,” he whispered. 

Harry patted Ron on the back and followed Draco inside. 

“Harry!” 

There was barely time for Harry to put his bags down before he had an armful of Hermione, and a face full of brown hair. 

“Hey, ‘Mi,” Harry said. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” Hermione said, wiping at her eyes. She frowned and punched Harry hard on the arm. 

“Where have you been? You couldn’t visit once in ten years! You just wandered off to another continent without a word, just a letter every now and then—” 

“Hermione, you and Ron came to visit us last year—” 

“Oh, Hermione, give the boys a break. They’re here now,” Molly said.

Harry rubbed at his arm. Hermione’s arm punches had only become stronger since school. 

The Weasley house was always comforting to Harry, even if it took some time to readjust to the noise. A warm house full of people he loved was something Harry would never take for granted, even if he felt like he had to keep one eye on Draco. 

“He’s not going to disappear if you look away.” 

Ginny sat on the couch beside Harry and offered him a plate of cookies. Harry took one and added it to the plate of snacks on his lap. 

“I know that,” he said defensively. “I just...I worry.”

“Nothing new, then,” Ginny said. “He does the same thing to you, you know.” 

“What does he do?” 

“He watches you,” she said. “I noticed it at the Christmas Ball. Even though you two were rarely apart the whole night, you watched each other. You’re very protective of each other.” 

“We’ve had to be,” Harry said. “We weren’t given a choice otherwise.” 

“You were,” Ginny said, smiling. “You just happened to make the right one. Oh, here he comes. That’s my cue. He always calls me  _ Ginevra _ . It’s like he doesn’t know what a nickname is.” 

“She made a hasty exit,” Draco said, taking Ginny’s spot. “Everything alright?” 

“It’s great. Having fun?” 

Draco held up a cracker, offering Harry the other end. Harry took it and tugged. 

There was a flash of light and a puff of violet smoke. Harry coughed, fanning the smoke away the best he could. 

“I’m going to kill them,” Draco said. Harry looked down and laughed uproariously. 

In the palm of Draco’s hand was a small, white ferret figurine with a Slytherin scarf around its neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! We have one more sleep 'til Christmas! Unless you're in a different timezone from me. I have 15 minutes until midnight! I hope you all have a lovely day tomorrow!


	25. Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Tree

“I thought I might find you down here.” 

Draco blew over the top of his hot cocoa and watched as Harry walked around the sofa. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“You didn’t,” said Harry. “You know I wake up a lot during the night. I’ve never been great at sleeping.” 

Draco snorted. 

“Are you...is everything alright?” Harry asked. “You don’t usually get up at night.” 

“I’m fine,” said Draco. “It’s just strange to be, you know, sitting in the Weasleys’ house on Christmas, in the middle of the night. My family has been feuding with the Weasleys since before even my father was born.”

“Maybe it was time for the feud to end,” Harry said. 

“Maybe.” 

Draco looked up at the Christmas tree. The lights were two different sizes, and the ornaments were mismatched and tattered. They were old and they told a story. 

“My mother’s tree was always perfectly decorated. It could have come right out of a catalogue,” Draco said. “We’d have parties all through December, and it was important they knew how much money we had. This...warmth is still a little bit strange.” 

“Yeah, I’m still not quite used to it,” Harry said. “The first Christmas I had at Hogwarts, Ron wrote his mum and said I wasn’t expecting anything. I’d never got gifts before.”

“I always got gifts,” said Draco. “But my mother only showed me any warmth when my father wasn’t around to scold her for it. He didn’t want a weak son.” 

“Sounds like him.” 

Draco hummed in agreement. He set his half-empty mug on the side table and curled closer to Harry. 

“Thank you for coming to find me,” Draco murmured drowsily after a few minutes. “And for staying.” 

Harry kissed Draco’s temple.

“You never have to thank me for that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! Thank you everyone for reading and commenting! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas, or a great Monday if you don't celebrate!


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